By The Silver Light Of The Crescent Moon
by moste-piratical-ursh
Summary: A dark thing is haunting Hogwarts Corridors. Panic and fear are rife. A dark secret is brewing many miles away. Who will resist when the dark beckons...?


**The Silver Light of the Crescent Moon**

**chapter one**

* * *

Hermione darted between the tree roots and low hanging branches which attacked her from each side. 

Any small light the moon may have cast was blocked by the thick folliage and many architectural boughs which hung above her head, giving the thicket the atmosphere of a cathedral or a palace.

Every so often, the slight breeze would move a branch or a leaf overhead and allow a small glimmer to light a patch of the fuana carpeted floor. She headed towards these small patches, despite the knowledge that they would neither deter not slow the thing which followed.

The wild flowers and low lying thickets of thorns which covered the ground and scratched at her ankles through her robes were slightly damp and she stumbled more than once as she ran wildly among the huge, hulking shadows of the trees. Slippery, black tufts of grass and wild flowers tangled around her feet and caused her to fall before scrambling up from the muddy ground once more. Her robes were torn ripped and her face and hands were severly scratched.

All the while the sound of a soft tread, a slight pant, belied the sounds of her own heart beat and ragged breath, monstrously loud in the unearthly quiet of the forest. Hermione feared that it would give her position away, so loud did it sound, but there was nothing she could do but run. Run and hope.

Her wand was tightly clamped in her right hand, leaving only her left hand free to steady her as she ran blindly. A trail of emrald green sparks flew out of the wand tip, marking her path through the trees before flaring up and leaving existence in a tiny blaze of stars.

A black shape, behind her, just a shade or so darker than the shadows, as though a hole had been cut from the forest, leaving the black of the nothing behind it to show through. Above the black, was white. A face set in deathly pallor, with black eyes which would compete with the dark of the starless night. The sound of soft foot falls upon the foliage did not cease, and Hermione continued to dart and run through the undergrowth.

Without warning, Hermione stumbled out into the expanse of a wide opening, hit with the unpleasant sensation of unprotection, unawares. Here, the moon was allowed free passage, and the entire clearing was bathed in the bright silver glow of the moon, which she was thankful for. The moon itself sat, a thin crescent, in an otherwise pitch black sky; hanging immobile and just beyond reach.

Stumbling dazedly around in the centre of the clearing, confused by the sudden light which penetrated her eyes, the thing of darkness flew out of the trees at her. Finding her bearings once again, Hermione fled, panic welling up stronger in her stomach than before and giving her sprint extra speed. Ironically, it was her speed that ended it.

In her frantic dash, she did not watch the ground ahead; she focused instead on the cover and protection of the trees which lay directly before her.

Hermione failed to see the scar in the ground, filled as it was with leaves and other weeds; the ditch in the centre of the opening.

She did not see it as her foot sank through the scratching, tearing stems and thorned leaves of the tangle. Or when her ankle was twisted violently, and she was sent crashing, with the force of her sprint, towards the wet, muddy ground.

Hermione was still unsure of how she had come to be in that position as the ragged black creature swooped in on her, a grin contorting a face she thought she had known. A familiar face, with features she had studied many times over threw six long years, yet at that moment it bore no resemblance to anything she had ever known.

The last sight which greeted her, blocking out the perfection of the moon hanging silently in the flawless sky, were the cold, dark eyes of the creature, staring coldly down into her own, like tunnels stretching off into unknown depths...

* * *

The pale blue sky hung above the manor, the weak yellow sun set amid it, glittering on the frosty windows of the house yet failing to remove the crisp chill in the air. A strong blustery wind howled around the house and through nooks and crannies, filling the chilly air with a wild quivering moan. 

Brittle leaves trailed across the well tended lawns, burning yellow, scarlet and gold.The fiery autumnal colours washed over the land, staining everything down to the tiny scarlet berries hanging on the hedgerows which criss crossed the fields.

The manor sat grandly in the centre of the grounds, the warm, fudge coloured stone merging flawlessly with the scenery. Two large wings fanned out from either side of the building, cutting an impressive silhouette on the desolate skyline.

A pale face glared out from a window high in the house. Golden beams struck out as the last of the pale sun touched a lock of his silvery-blond hair.

Draco turned his scowl inwards and stalked off into the darkened interior of the house, where his father awaited him.


End file.
